Barbarians

I only smile in the dark

My only comfort is the night gone black

I didn't accidentally tell you that

I'm only happy when it rains

You'll get the message by the time I'm through

When I complain about me and you

I'm only happy when it rains

Garbage - “Only Happy When It Rains”

The fleet of ships maneuvered themselves into orbit over Earth, while one of the task forces split off from the main body and headed for Mars. Yet another flotilla was already beginning its patrol of the system, watching over the steady stream of freighters and liners bringing in much-needed supplies and personnel. The scars of the Khonhim attack were still visible from orbit, and Admiral Matevosian could only look away with the greatest of effort.

“You did all that you could,” his new counterpart said. Admiral β 892 Sine ζ wore a humanoid-shaped metal body, for which he was grateful. He wouldn’t have known how to interact with a shiny metallic sphere.

Matevosian shrugged. “Perhaps someday I’ll be able to believe that,” he said, “though I’m not sure I’d care to place a wager on it.” He shook his head and faced the Ronin. “I’m just glad your task force arrived as soon as it did.”

“Leaving Earth unprotected was as unacceptable to us as it is to you,” β 892 Sine ζ said. “Your people have suffered in this war, and it honors us to repay the debt we owe humanity in some small way.”

“Thank you,” Matevosian said with a grimace. “I just wish…” He sighed after a moment and gave the Ronin Admiral a wry look. “I hate the thought of letting someone else do my job.”

“At the moment, your job is to rebuild Earth Force,” β 892 Sine ζ replied. “Our presence here is temporary until they complete the new task force.”

“And then?” the human asked. “Any idea what your orders will be, once we can take over security of the system?”

“Not yet,” the Ronin answered. “Any assumption I made would be pure speculation, given the nature of this new war. There are too many variables.”

“Isn’t there always?” Matevosian said, frowning as he made a contrite gesture to the Ronin Admiral. “My apologies. That came out harsher than I’d intended.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” β 892 Sine ζ said. “You have been through an indescribable ordeal. It will take time for you to come to terms with it.”

“So the counselors tell me,” he agreed, before regarding the Ronin. “You were at Zaaronq, weren’t you?” he asked.

“I was,” the automaton acknowledged. “I piloted an HK in that battle...and before that, I wore an armored ground chassis at Uzaunx.”

Matevosian nodded. “Must give you a unique perspective.” He softened, as he gazed down at Earth once more. “You know what it’s like, being on the receiving end.”

“I do,” β 892 Sine ζ said. “Admiral, do not be concerned. Look to rebuilding your fleet...and leave everything else to me.”

The meeting took place in a modest dwelling, far from the capitol. Given the clandestine nature of the rendezvous, they had leased the home through a series of cutouts, leaving no trail that could be traced back to the principals involved. Or so they hoped, at least.

“I dislike this,” Qomzoixaa said. “We have held up our end of the bargain,” he told the shadowy figure appearing by hologram, “so I believe it is time for you to show yourself.”

“I must disagree,” the figure replied. “Were Minister Singh to learn of my identity, it could have devastating consequences for all of us.”

“I believe Qomzoixaa speaks for everyone here,” Lassoarth chimed in. “We are the ones taking the risks.”

“I assure you, I am risking more than any of you,” the figure retorted. “In fact, the very reason I called this meeting was to inform you the first shipments have arrived on schedule.”

“Indeed?” Σ 121 Sub Δ said in surprise. “That is good news.”

“As promised,” the figure said. “Given the number of freighters traveling to the Sol system, it was a simple task to conceal our cargo. Our agent on-site is seeing to the arrangements, and the items will be ready when you require them.”

“And how will we take possession?” Qomzoixaa demanded.

“We will transmit the coordinates to your envoy when delivery is complete,” the figure explained. “Should events require us to move up the timetable, I can request the exchange sooner, though I cannot guarantee all items will be available before the agreed-upon deadline.”

“We have no reason to alter the schedule,” Lassoarth assured him. “Though as you say...circumstances can change.”

“Remember, you must act before the humans rebuild their fleet,” the figure warned. “Should you not execute the operation before that time, the odds of success are not encouraging.”

“Have no fear of that,” Σ 121 Sub Δ said. “We will uphold our end of the bargain. See that you uphold yours.”

“You have my word,” the figure replied. “Soon, we will have everything we ever wanted.”

Dhyaksh Chugaz Uydan switched off the transmitter and smiled to himself. The former ministers were so focused on regaining what they had lost, not to mention taking their revenge on the humans, they had never even considered the possibility they were being manipulated. It hadn’t been as simple a process to acquire the discussed items as he had led them to believe, but no matter. There were others among the old Triumvirate races just as eager to see an end to the human primacy, and just as easy to beguile. Being complete neophytes in the ways of treachery, they had made the classic blunder of assuming they were the ones in control.

Fools.

The plan was moving forward, though not without setbacks. He had foreseen the losses of Dzach and Gzuj as possibilities, but that did not make their loss any less painful. Still, sacrifices were necessary in war. They’d salvaged what they could, but their real value was yet to be seen. The humans were reacting just as predicted, and soon that would cost them. Once they lay broken and bleeding, the Khonhim would deliver the final blow.

And then it would be the Triumvirate’s turn.